In a Fine Frenzy
by Lyrical Ballads
Summary: When Racetrack starts selling love potion out on the streets, the love lives of David, Blink, and Jack are turned upside-down. Based on Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.
1. The course of true love

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Newsies_ or _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. The story title and all chapter titles are quotations from Shakespeare's play.

**Author's Note:** I was reading _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ the other week and decided that it would make a great _Newsies_ story. This is quite a loose adaptation of the original play and I really enjoyed writing this first chapter, so I hope everyone enjoys reading it!

* * *

><p><strong>In a Fine Frenzy<strong>

I.

_The course of true love never did run smooth_

"She isn't Jewish," Mrs. Jacobs said for the third time that morning.

Mr. Jacobs looked up from his copy of the _World_ and shook his head. "Esther, dear, does it matter if the girl is Jewish or not? If our David wants to walk her home on occasion, then he may walk her home."

"I do wish you would find yourself a nice Jewish girl," said Mrs. Jacobs, turning her gaze upon David as he ate his breakfast. "I can't imagine what you are going to do about that girl you've been seeing these days. What if the two of you decide to get married? What faith are your children going to be?"

"Mama, I'm too young to get married," said David, flushing over his plate while Sarah put her face in her napkin to hide her laughter. "Besides, I've done nothing but walk Henrietta home from school for the past week or so. It's perfectly harmless."

"I'm merely concerned about your future, David. Why, the Rosenthals live on the floor below us and they have a daughter just your age."

"Hannah Rosenthal is sweet on David," Les piped up. "Everyone says so."

"_Les_," David hissed, kicking his brother under the table.

"But it's _true_," said Les.

"You see, David?" said Mrs. Jacobs. "Hannah is a very nice girl and she likes you. Why not walk _her_ home from school every now and then?"

David remained silent and gazed moodily down at his breakfast. It was true that Hannah was perfectly nice, but she made a nuisance of herself in her attempts to win David's attention, especially when she knew that David had his eye on Henrietta Fairbanks. Of course, Henrietta had yet to express a return of David's feelings, but David was confident that in time she would throw off her shyness and declare a preference for his company.

As for David's mother, well… she would just have to learn to respect his choices, regardless of faith. Ever since Sarah began keeping company with Jack Kelly, David's former selling partner, Mrs. Jacobs became determined that at least one of her children would make a proper Jewish match.

David suddenly wished that Les was old enough for girls.

While Mrs. Jacobs despaired over the future of her oldest son, a similar conversation took place in an apartment just a few streets away. Henrietta Fairbanks sat at the kitchen table, poking despondently at her bowl of porridge while her father gave her his usual morning lecture. Instead of telling her to work harder at her lessons or spend less time outdoors the way he normally did, her father decided to lecture from a different angle that Saturday morning.

"You ought to be a little friendlier to David Jacobs," he was saying. "Perhaps invite him in for tea some afternoon."

"David is dull," Henrietta informed him as she continued to push porridge around with her spoon. "We would have nothing to talk about."

"He comes from a good family. His father and I work together at the same factory, and I've heard that the boy is real intelligent for his age. He's got a future ahead of him, that boy does, unlike that good-for-nothing, one-eyed urchin who lurks beneath your window."

Henrietta dropped her spoon. "Papa…"

"Don't try and pretend innocence. I've seen him on our fire escape with my own eyes. I didn't raise my daughter to spend her time with street rats."

"He isn't just a street rat," Henrietta argued. "He sells newspapers. David used to do it too!"

Her father ignored her and adjusted the spectacles that sat on his nose. "Young David may be _writing_ newspapers someday. I tell you, Henrietta, he's a good boy, and I would like you to invite him over for supper sometime this week."

"What if I don't?"

"Then I will make sure you never see that urchin boy again, and I don't mean that as an idle threat."

"Papa, that isn't fair!"

"It's perfectly fair," said her father, as if he were merely commenting on the weather. "You are my daughter and as long as you live under this roof, you obey my rules. I won't have you ruin your future."

Henrietta pressed her lips together, her brown eyes flashing with a defiance she didn't dare express in words—at least not yet. She had no desire to spend her time with well-behaved David Jacobs, teacher's favorite and all-around bookworm. She wanted to be with Blink, who knew how to have a good time even if he didn't have a proper home or a family.

Edgar Fairbanks, Henrietta's father, had been orchestrating her life for as long as she could remember. Books, studying, piano lessons, etiquette—all intended for her to better herself and find a man who would take her off his hands and provide for her nicely. He had even picked out Henrietta's name, naming her after her uncle Henry who had died before she was born, and he had been her sole guiding hand since her mother passed from fever ten years ago.

And now her father had gone too far. If he would take the time to actually meet Blink and see him as a person instead of just a "street rat," perhaps he would be a little more relenting. Just because he thought David had a future, he assumed he could plan out Henrietta's life for her, but Henrietta had different ideas and wasn't afraid to do what she could to reach them.

Breakfast remained a silent, uncomfortable affair and Henrietta forced herself to eat so she could slip off to her room, the one place where she exercised a bit of her own control. She had sewed her own bedding and curtains herself without her father's interference, and it was where she sought refuge when life became too oppressive. She paced about the room a few times, silently fuming over David Jacobs, his bothersome pursuit of her, and her father's encouragement, when an idea struck her.

She would do what she should have done _ages_ ago.

Henrietta ran to her chest of drawers and fished out a hair ribbon, then stepped out of her bedroom window so she could tie her ribbon to the railing of the fire escape.

* * *

><p>"Go ahead without me," Blink told Mush.<p>

"You sure?" said Mush. "We always earn more sellin' together."

"Yeah, well, I got things to do." Blink put out the cigarette he was smoking and ground it under his boot heel. "Go on. I'll manage by myself, all right?"

Mush didn't move; in fact, he deliberately remained where he was and allowed a grin to form on his face. "This ain't about sellin.' This is about your dame, ain't it?"

"What dame?"

"You _know_ what dame, Blink. The one with the H-soundin' name."

"Henrietta," Blink supplied.

"Yeah, that's it! Henrietta. If you ever wanna share her sometime, lemme know, okay?"

Blink rolled up his stack of papers and whacked Mush on the arm with them. "Course I ain't gonna share her, 'specially not with you. Henrietta is a one-newsie kinda girl."

"I was only kiddin," Mush said good-naturedly. "Go on and see your dame, maybe try to sell her a pape or two."

"Yeah, yeah," said Blink, but he grinned at Mush as the two of them parted ways. He couldn't explain his inexplicable need to see Henrietta when he still had a whole stack of papers to sell, but he just _had_ to see her. It had been a few days since he last met her in the daytime and he missed the way the sun hit her curly brown hair, making her look all warm and secure, as if all he needed to do was be with her and the problems of the world—the hunger, the cold, and the exhaustion—would melt away.

Henrietta was a real fine girl, as pretty as a poster outside of Irving Hall, and she was exciting to boot. She spoke her mind—not in the brash, coarse way that the street girls did—but in a smart way that Blink liked, and most evenings he waited to hear the tell-tale _clop clop clop_ of her boots as they trotted down the street cobbles to meet him. It was right there in this very neighborhood, on a night when Blink was selling the evening edition alone for a change, that he met Henrietta for the first time while she was out for a walk, getting some night air and attempting to escape her "dreary apartment," as she put it.

That apartment of hers was the only snag in the relationship. Well, more like her father who happened to live in the apartment, really. Blink had never met Mr. Fairbanks face-to-face, but he had heard plenty about the man and could have sworn he caught a glimpse of him once or twice while he was on Henrietta's fire escape, singing her quiet snatches of song about being the king of New York. She liked hearing him sing, and she liked the patch that covered one of his eyes, and she even liked the way he said "ain't" instead of "isn't," and Blink was convinced that she had to be the finest girl in all of Manhattan, completely under-appreciated by that no-good, strict father of hers.

If Blink was a little older and had a little more money, well... he'd take her away with him, someplace far away. They'd do as they pleased and would never go hungry, and he'd get to see the sun shine on her hair every waking day.

Blink shook his head and tightened his hold on his papers. The newsies might have won their strike, but they were still newsies plain and simple, and Blink would have to sell a hell of a lot of papers if he wanted to get even a _step_ closer to that dream. He didn't have any other options like David, who had gone back to school the moment his father got a new job, and sometimes he would lie awake wondering what he would do with himself once he got too old to be a newsie. He couldn't be a newsie forever, and one of these days he would probably land himself in some lousy factory job, sleep in some rundown rooming house, and drink himself stupid every night, and then what would he do? There was no way in hell a girl like Henrietta would want him then.

Blink supposed that was the reason why his mother left his father. It was the way the world worked in New York, it was the way the common people lived, and if Blink wanted to keep Henrietta he would have to avoid all those traps his old pop fell into years ago.

The problem with New York was that it liked to drag a fellow down, and sometimes you started sinking before you even knew it.

Blink managed to sell a couple of papers on his way to Henrietta's street and the pennies clinked in his pocket as he approached her apartment building. The moment he craned his neck and looked up, up towards the fourth floor where her window was located, he saw a flash of white rippling away in the gentle breeze—the unmistakable white of Henrietta's hair ribbon.

It meant she wanted to see him.

Climbing up a fire escape while hanging onto a stack of newspapers wasn't easy, but Blink had plenty of practice and scrambled up to Henrietta's window in no time without dropping a single paper. Her window was already wide open and the moment Blink tapped on the pane with his free hand, she appeared out of nowhere, her hair all loose around her shoulders like he had never seen it before. In the four or five weeks that he had known her, Blink had never visited Henrietta in the morning, when she was still in the stages of getting ready for the day, and he liked this new, unprepared side of her.

"Ya miss me?" he asked, winking at her with his one visible eye.

"Let's run away," she said.

Blink laughed. "Looks like you _really_ missed me. Where are you thinking of runnin' off to?"

"No, I mean it," said Henrietta, her brown eyes serious. "I want to run away from this place. With _you_."

"That's a fine idea, doll, but where are we gonna go? My pockets ain't full of money or nothin'."

"We'll go to your lodging house first, and then we'll make a plan from there. What do you say?"

Blink kissed her, letting his hands get tangled up in the loose curls of her hair. "If ya wanna go, then we'll go," he said. "I gotta sell off these papers, of course, but I'll get ya to the lodging house in no time, all right?"

"All right," Henrietta agreed. "I've already packed the things I want to take."

"What about your pop?"

"He's in his study, reading some dull political book like he always does. He won't miss me at all. In fact, I bet he'll say good riddance when he discovers he won't have to keep me in line any longer."

"Well, if you say so." Blink had seen his share of irate fathers who looked askance at the newsies who wanted to take their daughters out, and if Henrietta was convinced that her father wouldn't pester them, then that was just fine with Blink.

He leaned against the wall, next to the open window, and watched her grab a worn traveling bag and pull her coat from its peg on the wall. She was a petite thing, shorter than most girls he knew, but she sure as hell wasn't petite in spirit. That was what Blink admired most about Henrietta; she wasn't afraid of anything, and she didn't mind that he was poor and could offer her nothing more than the streets he had claimed as his own.

Henrietta cast one last look at her closed door, and satisfied that no one was coming for her, she pecked Blink on the cheek and gently pushed him towards the window. "Let's leave this place," she said.

They stepped out onto the fire escape together and Henrietta briefly set down her bag so she could pull her hair ribbon from the railing, intending to tie back her hair and become respectable once more.

"Don't." Blink stopped her hand. "I like your hair when it's loose."

The ribbon dropped down, down to the street below, and Blink thought Henrietta looked wild and free as she reclaimed her traveling bag and began the careful descent down the fire escape. She was free and she was all _his_, a thought that made him grin as he followed her down the escape and grabbed her coat for her so she wouldn't drop it. Perhaps if Blink had lived some other life, a life like David's for example, he would have discouraged a young girl from cutting loose into the streets, but Blink himself had run away from home and he didn't ever want to go back. Hell, kids all over New York ran from their homes every day, and it wasn't like Henrietta would be on her own out there.

He would have her back, every step of the way.

Blink landed on the street next to Henrietta and handed her coat back, still thrilled that she had chosen him instead of an easier life with her father. "To the lodging house then?" he asked.

Henrietta smiled at him. "To the lodging house."

"Henrietta?" a female voice cut in from just a few feet away. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Dismayed at the intrusion, Blink turned his head to discover Hannah Rosenthal, Henrietta's childhood friend, staring at the two of them.


	2. Love looks not with the eyes

II.

_Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind_

Hannah Rosenthal had known Henrietta Fairbanks since the two of them were eight years old. They had once lived in the same tenement building, where they roamed the narrow corridors and played with dolls up on the rooftop, until Hannah's family moved to a new apartment a few streets over when a fire started in the kitchen and engulfed half of their belongings. Hannah was twelve at the time, and she would never forget the acrid smell of smoke in the air, or the pain of saying goodbye to the tiny home she had grown up in.

She continued to visit Henrietta after she moved, of course, and she supposed that the fire was a blessing in disguise because it led her closer to David Jacobs, and yet there was no use in loving David when she had seen him walk Henrietta home from school with her very own eyes. _Henrietta_, her dearest friend from childhood. Hannah wouldn't have believed it if the evidence hadn't been in front of her face, and she finally resolved that she would ask Henrietta herself if the schoolroom gossip about her and David was true.

All thoughts of David flew out of her head, however, when she reached Henrietta's apartment building and found her friend on the street holding a traveling bag, accompanied by a ragged boy wearing an eye patch, of all things.

"Henrietta?" Hannah asked, hardly daring to believe that Henrietta would wander about with a strange boy, and with her traveling things for good measure. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"Going for a stroll," Henrietta replied. "I'm afraid I don't have time to talk."

"Yeah, let's beat it," said the one-eyed boy. "Your pop might show up any minute."

"Wait," said Hannah, taking a step forward. "I only need a moment of your time, Henrietta. Can't you spare that much?"

Henrietta looked nervous, an expression that Hannah rarely saw on her face, but she beckoned to Hannah and took quick, almost frantic steps until the windows of her tenement could no longer be seen. "You can't tell my father that you saw me this morning," she told Hannah earnestly. "Promise me that if he asks you, you'll tell him that you never saw me, won't you?"

"I don't understand," said Hannah.

"Hannah, please."

"I promise I won't tell him a thing. But who's that boy you're with?"

"Name's Blink," said the boy, holding out the grubby hand that wasn't clutching a stack of newspapers. "You a friend of Henrietta's?"

Hannah refused to shake his hand and turned her attention back to Henrietta, regarding her with a sudden curiosity. "Then you aren't keeping company with David," she mused aloud.

"_David?_" Henrietta actually laughed, to Hannah's surprise. "Why would I keep company with boring old David?"

"But... but he walks you home from school!"

"And I wish he didn't. Believe me, Hannah, David Jacobs is the absolute last boy I wish to keep company with."

Blink looked like he was ready to drop his stack of newspapers all over the street. "Wait just a minute._ David Jacobs_ has been walkin' you home from school? How come ya never told me?"

"Because he's never on my mind," Henrietta told him with a smile that made Hannah distinctly uncomfortable. "I've made my choice, and David certainly isn't it."

Hannah suddenly remembered the traveling bag in Henrietta's hand and the coat slung over one arm, which shouldn't be necessary if Henrietta was merely taking a stroll like she said. "Henrietta," Hannah said softly, taking an anxious step closer to her friend. "I do wish you would tell me what is happening. You're going somewhere, aren't you?"

"I'm running away with Blink," said Henrietta. "We're going to his lodging house for now, and then who knows where we'll be? Only you mustn't breathe a word to Papa or anybody else, just like you promised."

"Of course," said Hannah, nodding her dark head. "I won't tell a soul."

She hardly knew what to say. Henrietta had always been bold, even when they were children, and Hannah remembered how she used to stand off to the side while she watched Henrietta chase the neighborhood boys around. Henrietta had always been the outspoken one, the confidant one, the one who always knew how to get what she wanted, but through all the years of knowing her Hannah had never expected her to do something as rash as running away with a boy.

In spite of all her misgivings, Hannah couldn't help but envy Henrietta and Blink, for it was obvious that two of them were happy together. If only David... but perhaps she _did_ have a chance with David, if she was bold enough to play her cards right.

"We better get goin," said Blink. "I still gotta sell, and we won't be eatin' a thing if I don't get rid of these papes."

"He's right," said Henrietta. "We really must go." The look she gave Hannah was partially apologetic, partially anxious, and she tightened her grip on her traveling bag as she moved closer to Blink. "Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," said Hannah, but as she watched the two of them walk away she realized that the luck wasn't for Henrietta at all.

It was for herself.

* * *

><p>Jack sensed that Sarah was pulling away from him. Oh, she still smiled at him every time he stopped by for supper, and she always let him kiss her goodnight when her father wasn't looking, but you learned how to read people real well when you made your life on the streets, and Jack was learning to read Sarah like she was newsprint. Ever since David went back to school she had been a bit different, like responsibility was a big deal all of a sudden, and she wouldn't let Jack take Les out to sell papers anymore.<p>

"Aw, come on, Sarah," he had told her just yesterday. "The kid thinks it's fun. Let him live a little before he's gotta work for real."

"Les is going to school," Sarah told him firmly. "He doesn't need a street education."

"Everybody could use a street education," he shot back. "The streets are out there, Sarah, and they ain't goin' nowhere. It don't matter how much fancy schoolin' ya get; sooner or later you're gonna be out in the world and you gotta know how to get by."

They went back and forth for what felt like ages after that, and soon enough Jack wondered if their argument was really about Les anymore. Jack Kelly was not an insecure kind of fellow, not at all, but as he sat in the Jacobs' sitting room arguing with Sarah he wondered if he really belonged in that nice warm home, with his rough accent and his poor clothes, if he really belonged with that perfect family, when he came from a background of thievery and lying.

But Jack Kelly wasn't insecure, and he shoved all those thoughts to the back of his mind and figured that Les was growing up, and girls always acted a bit crazy when the boys around them started growing up. It still didn't change the fact that he and Sarah had spoken harshly to each other, and Jack couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, but something _was_ different between the two of them. For once in his life Jack supposed it was a good thing he worked seven days a week, which meant he could avoid Sarah for the entire day if he had to, and he avoided the direction of the Jacobs apartment as he did his selling.

"Love potion for sale!" a voice rang out. "Step right up, ladies and gents, and get your love potion! Five cents a bottle!"

Jack knew that voice and suppressed a chuckle as he approached Racetrack, who stood on a street corner with his usual stack of papers and a small crate full of bottles. "What are ya doin,' Race?" Jack asked. "This ain't your usual spot. What happened to Sheepshead?"

"Sheepshead'll still be there tomorrow," Race replied. "I'm makin' myself a profit here, Cowboy. Folks are buyin' these up like they're hot cakes."

"Love potion," Jack said disbelievingly. "Where'd ya get an idea like that from?"

Knowing Race, it probably had something to do with gambling debts. Jack remembered a year ago when Race ran into some trouble after losing too many card games, so he tried raising extra money playing his harmonica on the streets, and that was only one of many schemes he had used to get out of debt since Jack had known him. Race just smirked at Jack, unbothered by his skepticism, and held up one of the bottles he was hawking.

"This ain't no scam, Jack," he said. "There's a girl I know—they call her Flower—and she's the real deal when it comes to mixin' potions and whatnot. I owe Flower a few favors here and there, so I offered to sell her wares out on the street and give her a share of the profits."

"Huh," said Jack.

"Oh, you're laughin' now, but wait till ya see the dough it brings in. Six cents will get ya a pape and a love potion, a real bargain! Charm the love of your love and read the news all at once."

"Yeah, but I bet the potion don't work. There ain't no such thing as a real love potion, Race, and you know it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well lemme strike you up a deal, Cowboy. I'll let you have one of these bottles, no charge, and you try it out on whoever strikes your fancy. If the potion works, you owe me five cents, and if it don't work, then _I_ owe you five cents." Race held out his hand to Jack. "Whaddya say? Is it a deal or is it a deal?"

Without even thinking about it, Jack put forth his own hand and spit-shook. "It's a deal, Race. Lemme have one of those bottles."

Race gave him the bottle that was still clutched in his other hand and immediately resumed his cry of, "Step right up! Get your love potion right here!"

The bottle was small, with a pink stopper, and when Jack peered through the murky glass he could see liquid of an indeterminable color sloshing around. "Love potion, eh?" he muttered to himself. "We'll see about that, Racey-boy."

And tucking the bottle into his pocket, he continued forward with his morning papers, calling out the headlines and wondering what would happen if he used Sarah to help him win the bet.

* * *

><p>Hannah had been walking about in a haze ever since she discovered Henrietta and Blink on the street. How wonderful it must be to find a boy who was willing to run away, regardless of the consequences, and throw everything aside for love. How lucky Henrietta was, not only to find happiness with the boy she wanted, but to receive attention from <em>two<em> boys at once, for it was obvious that David felt seriously about Henrietta if he was willing to walk her home from school.

All her life, Hannah had tried not to be jealous of Henrietta's vibrant personality, her beautiful brown curls, and her petite stature, but now she couldn't help but realize that she _wanted_ to be more like Henrietta, who always seemed to get everything she wanted. Hannah was always worried that she wasn't pretty enough, that she wasn't interesting enough, that nobody would ever love her when girls like Henrietta were out in the world, and it hurt knowing that David had set his eyes on Henrietta when Hannah was the one who had admired him since she was twelve years old.

She wasn't always the girl who purposely sat close to David at school, pining after a boy who gave her minimal amounts of attention. Not so long ago, after Hannah's family moved into the same tenement the Jacobs family lived in, David liked her enough to walk with her to the corner store to pick up ingredients for the evening's supper, and he even shared his books with her. He helped with her school work and told her he liked her hazel eyes, because he could never tell if they were going to look brown or green, and everything would have gone on perfectly if he hadn't dropped out of school, sold newspapers for a few months, and then returned to his studies.

David seemed different after he returned to school nearly two months ago. More grown up, like he had spent years selling papers instead of a few short months, and it was after he underwent this change that he started noticing Henrietta Fairbanks, who he had previously seen as a friendly acquaintance. But Henrietta loved that newsboy with the eye patch, the boy called Blink, and the sooner David knew about it the better off he would be.

In fact, if Hannah was the one who broke the news, she would conveniently be there to comfort him, and if luck was on her side David would forget all about Henrietta once he realized how much Hannah truly cared for him. Hannah may not be bold and extraordinarily pretty like Henrietta, but she had a brain in her head and knew how to achieve her ends without batting her eyelashes at the opposite sex.

Hannah returned to her tenement building and walked up an extra flight of stairs to the floor above her own, where the Jacobs family lived. Mrs. Jacobs, who had always welcomed Hannah into her kitchen for a bite to eat, opened the door and cheerfully ushered her inside, as if Hannah was an esteemed guest on a special occasion.

"David has been sulky all morning," Mrs. Jacobs said, turning a warm smile upon Hannah. "Your face will do him some good, I'm sure."

"I would hope so," said Hannah.

"Oh, I know it will. You're a fine young girl, exactly what David needs to cheer up. Go on, now, before he takes it into his head to go outdoors." Mrs. Jacobs led Hannah, who felt somewhat bewildered by this onslaught of encouragement, to the sitting room where David sat in a chair with a thick book in his lap, while his brother Les played with marbles upon the floor.

"Look who has come to visit you, David," said Mrs. Jacobs. "Put that book down and say hello."

David looked up from the pages in his lap and met Hannah's eyes, unable to hide the surprise in his face. "Hannah," he said, quickly turning his surprise into politeness. "It's good to see you."

"See, Davey!" Les crowed from his spot on the floor. "I told you!"

"Told you what?" asked Hannah.

"Nothing," said David, looking embarrassed. "Les, go play somewhere else."

"This is my favorite spot," Les replied stubbornly.

"Les, dear, leave these two alone," said Mrs. Jacobs. "You can play marbles in the kitchen."

Les looked mutinous, but he scooped his marbles up off the floor and carried them away, shooting furtive looks at David and Hannah over his shoulder as he left. Mrs. Jacobs beamed at Hannah, then bustled off after Les, leaving Hannah completely alone with David. "I apologize for dropping in so unexpectedly," Hannah began. "But I have something important to say."

David, who didn't seem terribly interested in Hannah's presence at first, sat up straighter in his chair and looked directly at her. "What is it?"

"I saw Henrietta this morning. She's running away with a boy."

Now David was definitely interested. "What boy? What do you mean, she's running away?"

"She had her traveling things with her," Hannah explained, her words coming out in a rush due to her nervousness. "And I spoke with her. She's running away from home, headed to the Newsboys Lodging House with a boy named Blink."

"_Blink_? Did he have an eye patch?"

Hannah nodded, feeling more anxious than ever at the partially confused, partially tormented look on David's face.

"Blink!" David repeated to himself, as if he could hardly believe it. "This can't be possible. Hannah, you must have misunderstood her. Why would Henrietta run away with Blink?"

Hannah moved closer to his chair so she could look into his eyes, and lowered her voice. "David, don't you understand? Henrietta loves someone else. She's running away with Blink so she can be with him, away from the judgment of her father. She told me so herself."

David stood up and Hannah thrilled at how close the two of them were, but he didn't appear to see her, or the book that spilled unceremoniously to the floor. "I'm going after them," said David.

"David, I don't believe that's a good idea—"

"You said they're headed to the Lodging House, didn't you? I'm not letting Henrietta run away until I at least talk to her, Hannah. I want answers."

"I already gave you all of the answers you need. She's gone from you, now, and there's no use in trying to get her back."

But David wasn't listening. He grabbed his cap from the hat stand, bid his mother a quick farewell, and walked out the door, bent on catching Henrietta and Blink before they could reach the Lodging House.

Hannah did the only sensible thing she could think of: she rushed out the door and followed him.


	3. And then end life when I end loyalty

III.

_And then end life when I end loyalty_

Race preferred selling at Sheepshead, where he could see the horse races and place his bets, but the betting was the reason he was in trouble in the first place. It seemed like he owed money all over the city these days, which didn't make him very popular at the races or the gambling tables, no matter how friendly he was, and there was no way he could pay off his debts on paper selling alone.

It was a good thing he ran into all sorts of interesting characters thanks to his hobbies, and Flower in particular was a stroke of good fortune. She claimed her love potion really worked, but she could have filled her little bottles up with ginger ale, for all Race cared. It didn't matter, as long as he had a good selling campaign and people put pennies in his pockets.

He wasn't lying when he told Jack those little bottles sold like hot cakes. By the time morning wore away and headed towards noon, all the love potions had been bought up by eager young men and women and schoolkids with coins to spare. At five cents a bottle, a dozen of those potions earned him sixty cents, which was equal to selling sixty papers in a day. If Race could sell off another dozen, he would be on his way to becoming rich. He knew he would probably lose his impromptu bet with Jack, but what was five cents when he could earn five dollars?

"Hey, kid." Race spotted a younger newsie, one from his own lodging house, who only had several papers left in his hands. "Kid, how many papes did ya sell today?"

"Twenty," said the kid.

Race pushed his own dwindling stack of papers into the boy's hands. "Here's twenty more as a gift. Pretend it's your birthday or somethin'."

At the rate he was going, Race wouldn't need to sell papers for a whole week, but only if Flower agreed to give him more bottles. She was real unpredictable at times, especially if she had been sampling some of her uncle's brew, but when she was in the mood to be generous she was one of the sweetest girls Race had ever met.

If only it wasn't for that spooky grandmother of hers. The old lady gave Race the shivers, but he could tolerate her company if it meant gaining more potions to make a profit.

Carrying his empty potions crate, Race made his way down the street until he reached a pub called Malone's and slipped in through the side entrance, up a flight of stairs that led to the home right above the pub. Fighting down his craving for a cigar, Race kept his hands out of his pockets and knocked twice upon the front door. "Hey, Flower! You in?"

Several seconds passed, and then the door creaked open to reveal a redheaded girl. "Not so loud," she said. "Nana fell asleep recently."

Race tried to hide his relief. "So am I allowed in? I got business to discuss with ya."

"You _always_ got business to discuss. You never come around just to see me, do ya, Race?"

"I'm lookin' at ya right now, doll," Race replied with a wink. "Lemme in, will ya? I got good news."

Flower hesitated, looking Race up and down, but at last she smiled and moved aside so he could enter. "Good news, eh? Did the streets of New York treat you well this mornin'?"

"You get a share of the profits, just like I promised. I even got those shiny nickels ya love so much."

That was the appealing part about Flower; she liked money just as much as Race did. The two of them moved through the apartment quietly, careful not to wake the old grandmother, and Flower led Race into the back room where the bottles of love potion were kept. With her light skin and untamed red hair wisping about her head, she _looked_ a bit like a flower as she stood in the middle of the room, looking at Race with eyes that could change expression at the drop of a hat.

Her real name was Letitia Malone, but only her family called her that. Living with an aunt and uncle who owned their own pub gave her access to spirits at any hour of the day or night, and she often peddled the goods within the gambling circles Race frequented. "So," she said, holding out a hand to Race. "I'll have my thirty cents, if ya please."

Race frowned at her. "How'd ya figure thirty?"

"I know me numbers, Race. A dozen bottles at five cents makes sixty cents, and half of sixty makes thirty."

"Yeah, but who says you're gettin' half? I'm the one who braved the streets for ya."

"And I'm the one who made the stuff."

"How 'bout twenty cents and a kiss from yours truly here? That's a good deal, eh?"

Flower glared at him. "Thirty cents."

"Aw, come on. You never let me kiss ya. And I ain't even had a single cigar yet to boot."

"Well you can kiss your cigar instead. I want half the profits or I ain't givin' you any more bottles to sell."

Race knew a defeat when he saw it. Losing ten cents wasn't so bad if he could earn it back a few times over, but if he kept arguing he wouldn't get a chance to earn it back _and_ Flower might demand more than half her share for his insolence. He never knew with a girl like her, and his usual gambler's instincts never worked in this case, so he grudgingly pulled his earnings out of his pocket and handed thirty cents to Flower.

"There. Ya happy now?"

Flower's stony expression melted away into contentment as she looked down at the coins gathered in her palm. "You're a dear, did ya know that, Race?"

"Hard to tell when you're cursin' me one moment and praisin' me the next," Race muttered.

"Oh, I don't really mean half the things I say. You know that, don'tcha?" Flower pocketed her money and stepped closer to Race, hooking a finger beneath one of his suspenders. "Come on, let's get ya some more of those little moneymakers, shall we?"

She dragged him by the suspender towards an open trunk filled with identical bottles, all filled and closed up with pink stoppers. "You clever girl," said Race. "You figured we'd make good business and got your product all prepared ahead of time. How's about we open a couple of those bottles and drink to good fortune?"

"Absolutely not," said Flower.

"Aw, why not? I know you got liquor or somethin' harmless in there."

"_Liquor?_ Why would I fill these bottles up with liquor, Race? Are you callin' me a liar?"

"Course I ain't callin' you a liar. But you and I both know that there ain't no such thing as love potion. I just tell folks it's the real deal so they'll buy it."

"So you don't believe in magic."

"I believe in doin' what you gotta do to make a buck," said Race. "And I think _you_ believe it too."

"You haven't watched your customers after givin' em the potion, have ya?" said Flower. "You never bothered to see if the stuff actually works, did ya? I know how much you like makin' deals, Race, and I'll make you a deal right here: if I hand over more potions to sell, ya gotta promise me you'll stick by at least one of your customers, just to see if it works."

"Sounds fair enough," said Race. "But this ain't a bettin' kinda deal. You already robbed me of ten cents, and I prob'ly owe five to Jack Kelly, unless you really _did_ put liquor in those bottles and he gets some dame drunk enough to fall in love with him."

"It ain't liquor," Flower said firmly. "You'll get your five cents on that bet, guaranteed."

"You gonna give me five cents of your own if that proves to be false?"

"I thought this wasn't a bettin' kinda deal."

"All right, all right. The deal's on, no bettin.' But I get the last laugh if your little potion here is fake." Race took his empty crate and handed it to Flower. "Fill 'er up."

Flower didn't argue and placed a dozen bottles into the small crate, then put the whole thing into Race's arms. "Remember," she said, moving in close so she could speak in Race's ear. "I get half the profits. Thirty cents, or I'll tip some of that potion into your drink when you ain't lookin' and have you fall in love with a stray dog."

"You ain't gonna settle for twenty cents and a kiss then, are ya? Even though ya flirt with me somethin' scandalous sometimes?"

"When have I ever flirted with you? Get on with you now, and make us a profit, will ya?" But before she moved away from him, Flower squeezed Race's shoulder and gave him a smile that made Race want to strangle her for teasing him so.

Shaking his head over the mystery of girls, Race left the apartment with the goods in his arms and went off to find more victims.

* * *

><p>Blink found himself selling more papers when Henrietta was at his side. All she had to do was flash her charming smile, or make her eyes look pitiful, depending on the type of customer, and the pennies came pouring in. Of course, it wasn't all fun and games selling with Henrietta, because he was afraid somebody would recognize her and march her back to her father, and he kept wanting to pull her into alleys and kiss her at the worst moments, but all in all it was an interesting experience. At the rate they were going, Blink would have all his papers sold in no time and could take Henrietta to the lodging house, where the two of them would figure something out.<p>

In the meantime, Blink was getting hungry. The nuns had given him breakfast before he started out for the distribution center, but that was hours ago and the nuns couldn't provide a hearty breakfast when they had countless boys to feed. Henrietta was probably hungry too, though she hadn't complained at all, and Blink promised himself he would stop for something to eat once he earned a few more pennies.

It was hard enough taking care of himself during a long day of work, but now he had an extra person who depended on him.

"Gettin' tired at all?" he asked.

"Tired?" Henrietta echoed. "Why, Blink, I'll never be tired as long as you're here, even if you have to sell papers till nightfall."

"Sometimes I _do_ sell 'em till nightfall. Ya sure you don't wanna go back to your pop?"

"I'll never go back," Henrietta declared, and that was that.

For the first time Blink started to have second thoughts about helping Henrietta run away from home. Sure, he loved being with her all day long and the thought of defying her father was exciting, and he thought everything was going fine until she made that comment about selling until nightfall. Henrietta may not be afraid of anything, but she lived a comfortable life with her father and didn't know anything about working hard day in and day out, or going hungry because of bad headlines, or sleeping outside in the cold because a meal was more important than paying rent on a bunk. She didn't know anything about being judged for being poor and ragged, and she certainly didn't know anything about what it was like to walk the streets and wonder if she would run into her drunken father or her runaway mother.

No, Henrietta wasn't the kind of girl who was made for the streets. She was made for the schoolroom, for the well-furnished parlor, for a boy who could raise her up instead of drag her down. A girl like Henrietta was made for a boy like David Jacobs, and yet she had chosen _Blink_ instead of David, so maybe Blink's sudden misgivings were kind of foolish after all.

If she wasn't meant to be out on the streets with him, then she wouldn't be out here, would she?

Feeling slightly better about the situation, Blink resumed selling papers in earnest while Henrietta helped him reel in the customers. Nobody asked why a girl like Henrietta was tagging along after a newsie, but then again, nobody really bothered much about newsies or the people around them. Blink was like part of the scenery, practically invisible aside from the papers he carried, and the only ones who really paid him any attention were fellow newsies.

Like Racetrack, who wasn't selling at his usual spot over at Sheepshead for some reason.

"Hiya, Blink," Race said the moment they were in speaking distance of each other. "How's the sellin?"

"Not bad," said Blink. "You, uh, ever meet Henrietta at all?"

Blink hadn't bothered to keep Henrietta a secret from the other fellows, mainly because it was almost impossible to keep a girl a secret, and somebody would be bound to find out sooner or later. Nearly everyone in the lodging house knew that Blink had a girl he went and saw most evenings, though none of them had been properly introduced to her. Race's eyes widened with interest the moment he saw Henrietta, and he put on that charming smile he always used when he wanted to strike a deal with someone.

"Aw, so here's the little lady we've all heard about," said Race. "Nice to meet ya. The name's Racetrack Higgins."

"Henrietta Fairbanks," said Henrietta, smiling prettily in return. "Where are your newspapers?"

"Sharp girl ya got here, Blink," said Race. "I ain't got any papes, Miss Henrietta, 'cause I've gone into a new business on the side. I've got an amazing miracle draught here that'll boost your health after just a few sips."

"You're pullin' our legs," said Blink. "I don't believe ya."

"Oh yeah?" Race took one of the little bottles out of the crate with him and pressed it into Blink's hand. "I'll let ya have a sample, free of charge. Take that when you're feelin' tired and I swear you'll feel like a million bucks afterwards."

"That sounds like a good deal to me, Blink," said Henrietta.

"Oh, you don't know this joker, Henrietta. Race will do anything if he thinks he can win somethin' off it."

"Why, that's a bit hurtful, Blink," said Race. "I coulda charged ya five cents for that bottle, but did I? Nah, I let you have it for free, so take it and be grateful. And lemme know how it works, will ya? 'Cause I may not have any deals with _you_, but I do got a deal runnin' with the girl who supplied the stuff."

Personally Blink didn't care who had a deal with who, or what exactly was in the bottle Race handed him. He just wanted to sell off all his papers, find something to eat, and get Henrietta safely to the lodging house. "Yeah, all right. I'll take your miracle draught and tell you how it works. Henrietta and I gotta get goin' now."

"It was nice meeting you," Henrietta told Race. "Hopefully we'll meet again!"

"I hope so too, darlin.' Lemme know when you get tired of One-Eye over there." Race waved farewell to the two of them and continued down the street, carrying his crate of mysterious bottles.

Blink linked his free arm through Henrietta's and carried on towards the lodging house.


	4. Reason and love keep little company

IV.

_Reason and love keep little company together nowadays_

According to David, they were about halfway to the Newsboys Lodging House, though he made it clear that he didn't appreciate Hannah following him. He had tried repeatedly to shake her off and even took five minutes to explain that she was meddling in an affair that only concerned himself, Blink, and Henrietta, but Hannah was stubborn and refused to leave his side.

"You don't need to follow them," she kept saying. "Don't you know that Henrietta won't listen to anyone but herself?"

"I _do_ need to follow them," said David. "I need to know what possessed her to run off like this."

"I've told you half a dozen times, she wants to be with Blink and get away from her father. There's nothing you or I can possibly do to change her mind."

"I want to hear it from her own mouth, Hannah. I've got to see her before she does something she might regret."

In spite of her frustration over David's persistence, that attitude was one of the things Hannah admired the most about him. David always wanted to do the right thing, and seek the right truth, no matter what anybody else thought, and Hannah knew he wouldn't stop walking through the streets of Manhattan until he found Henrietta and heard her explanation. There was something so wholesome and _good_ about David that made Hannah want to follow him anywhere, even when he was distracted with another girl and wanted nothing more than for Hannah to go home. Once he realized that Henrietta was lost to him for good, he would surely see Hannah in a new light and appreciate her loyalty.

She wouldn't let him out of her sight, not for a moment. "How long have you known Blink?" she asked out of curiosity. "He's awfully ragged, isn't he? Why, he even has an eye patch!"

"Blink is a friend of mine," David replied. "Or at least I thought he was. He may have only one working eye, but he should have seen that Henrietta isn't the kind of girl he can just whisk away from her home."

"She went with him willingly," Hannah put in. "I know what she told me and I'm not one to lie."

David stopped walking so abruptly that Hannah nearly ran into him. "Hannah, please listen to me," said David. He sounded as polite as ever, but the determination in his eyes worried Hannah a bit. "I want you to stop following me. Go home and forget you witnessed any of this, and _please_ try to forget whatever feelings you might have for me."

"That's a horrible thing to say," said Hannah. "Here you are, chasing a girl who has clearly set her sights on another boy, when the girl who likes you is right here at your side!"

"I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you're only going to get hurt if you keep following me. Can't you understand that?"

"At least tell me why you can't change your mind. Don't you remember all those times when I ate supper with your family and you shared your books with me? I was so certain you cared for me when we were younger."

David looked at Hannah sadly and took a step away from her. "Things change, Hannah. People grow up. Now promise me that you'll head home as soon as we part ways, won't you?"

"David, I can't promise that."

"Then I'll just have to trust you to do the right thing." And David was walking away, just as abruptly as he had stopped, and when Hannah tried to follow him he picked up his pace until he had lost himself in a crowd of people who swarmed around a vegetable stall. Hannah called out David's name, but he didn't respond, and at last she couldn't tell if any of the nondescript caps she saw up ahead belonged to him at all.

"David," Hannah said one last time, soft enough so that nobody else heard her. He was gone, his heart still set on finding Henrietta, and Hannah hoped that Blink and Henrietta had traveled someplace far away by now. It wasn't a kind wish at all, but it was hard to feel kindly towards anybody when she felt so disappointed, and so very, very alone.

It was true, she was only second-best when compared to Henrietta, but Hannah wasn't _quite_ so terrible, was she? David had merely forgotten all the wonderful times they had spent together before he dropped out of school, but now Hannah wasn't sure if he would ever remember. Boys were such fickle creatures, darting from one girl to the next like a bee seeking flowers, but of course Hannah always thought that David was above that. Going out into the world and selling those newspapers must have changed him more than she had imagined, and now there was nothing left she could do to persuade him from his chosen course.

Going home was unthinkable. She would only pace about the apartment and fret over David, which would only worry her younger sisters and bother her parents.

Finding the lodging house was also out of the question, for she had no idea where it was, but there was a bakery the next street over and Hannah supposed that if she couldn't pursue what she wanted, she might as well comfort herself with a pastry and wait for David to experience the same disappointment she currently suffered.

With her mind made up, Hannah walked to the end of the block and turned the corner onto the next street, where she knew the bakery was located. She kept her eyes open for David, hoping he had taken the same turn by some twist of fate, but he was nowhere in sight and she supposed he had gone in some other direction where she would never find him.

Well. She knew she would see him again, eventually. The two of them lived in the same tenement building, after all.

The bakery was at the far end of the street, but before Hannah could get there she saw something that drove all thoughts of David temporarily from her mind. There on the street, unmistakable with his newspapers and eye patch, was Blink the newsie without Henrietta at his side. "Read all about it!" he called out to the passerby. "Mad dog responsible for fever outbreak in the Bronx! Only a penny a pape!"

Something a bit like anger churned inside Hannah at the sight of him. If it wasn't for Blink taking Henrietta away, David wouldn't have taken it into his head to follow them, and Hannah wouldn't be wandering about the city in despair. Most importantly, Henrietta had claimed that she and Blink were running off so they could be together, and yet here was Blink selling his papers while Henrietta was nowhere in sight. Had he actually kidnapped Henrietta and disposed of her mangled body in an alley somewhere? But surely somebody would have caught him in broad daylight by now and besides, Henrietta's traveling things sat on the street beside him, as if they were waiting for Henrietta to come and reclaim them.

Hannah wasted no more time debating with herself. She strode down the street until she was right in front of Blink and drew herself up to her full height, glad that she was at least taller than Henrietta, even if she wasn't prettier. Blink was using his free hand to drink something out of a small bottle, and he raised his head the moment he noticed her presence.

"Where has Henrietta gone?" she asked him.

Blink looked at her blankly for a moment, as if seeing her for the first time. "Henrietta? Oh, she's over at the bakery gettin' some food while I sell the rest of these papes. But what's it matter?"

"What does it matter?" Hannah echoed. "David is looking for the two of you this very moment. He's expecting you to be at the lodging house so he can question Henrietta."

"Aw, he can have Henrietta. She's a real looker, of course, but she ain't nothin' compared to what's right in front of me." Blink seemed to have forgotten about his papers, for he let his hand drop down to his side as he smiled at Hannah. "Let's say you and me head off somewhere alone, darlin'. Whaddya say?"

Hannah's immediate instinct was to run away, and she began her nervous retreat while Blink continued to look at her with that strange smile on his face. This wasn't the same boy she had encountered earlier near Henrietta's building, and it frightened her that his manner could change so drastically in such a short amount of time. Why on earth would Henrietta want to run away with such a boy?

"Say, girlie," said Blink. "What are ya walkin' off for? A beautiful thing like yourself shouldn't be wallkin' these streets all alone. C'mon, I'll look after ya."

"What's happened to you?" Hannah demanded. "You must be making fun of me."

That was it; it had to be some sort of joke Blink had devised in an attempt to scare her off and make sure she didn't interfere with him and Henrietta. Henrietta must have told him how anxious Hannah was about her looks and personality, and he thought it would be great fun to pretend he was sweet on her just to frighten her back to her home.

"Makin' fun of ya?" said Blink, looking genuinely surprised. "I wouldn't do a thing like that to somebody as sweet as you. What kinda lousy bum do ya think I am, huh?"

"I think you're the lousiest, actually. You know you don't care a thing about me, and the feeling is mutual."

"Don't care a thing about ya? Ain't you been listenin' to a word I just said?"

"Of course I have. It's all lies in order to frighten me."

Somehow Blink had ended up closer to Henrietta, in spite of her intentions to run away, and he took one of her hands in his own rough one. "Doll, you don't know how serious I am. I drank some sorta energy draught 'cause I was told I'd feel like a million bucks, but seein' your face makes me feel like _twenty_ million bucks."

Hannah was more puzzled than ever, and she was starting to wonder if Blink's cruel joke was truly a joke at all. "But you love Henrietta."

"Oh sure, I _did_ love Henrietta. But like I said, she ain't nothin' compared to you."

Two things happened in the next moment: Henrietta returned from the bakery with a parcel under one arm, and Racetrack snuck off in a bewildered daze to find Flower Malone, for he had witnessed the entire exchange between Hannah and Blink.

* * *

><p>"But don't you have papers to sell?" Sarah asked Jack as she accompanied him to Irving Hall. "You're always so busy these days."<p>

"Eh, the headlines can wait," said Jack. "Besides, takin' my girl out to a show beats sellin' papes any day."

The excuses and sweet words fell from his tongue so easily, he didn't even have to think up a reason to take Sarah out when he was supposed to be working. Jack had always been an expert liar, the best of the best, and that may not be something to brag about but it was one of the only things he had. Sarah always believed every word he said anyway, and what she didn't know certainly wouldn't hurt her.

Jack had learned early on that you should always tell a dame what she wanted to hear, no matter how far from the truth it was, and he planned to stick to that philosophy. Medda Larkson would be in the middle of one of her daytime shows and Jack slipped in through the entrance she always let him use, taking Sarah by the arm and making sure he held the door open for her. He still vividly remembered that summer day when he had taken David through this very same entrance, for a very different purpose, and it seemed that every interesting point in his life involved some member of the Jacobs family.

They sure kept him from getting bored, that was for sure.

"I can't stay out too long," Sarah whispered to him as they entered the building.

"Course not," said Jack. "I'll have ya home in the blink of an eye."

For a moment he wondered if Sarah was just making up excuses because she didn't want to spend the day with him, but then he figured that she probably had to help out at home and keep Les out of trouble. Besides, Jack didn't exactly _want_ to spend the whole day with Sarah, as much as he liked her company, and he couldn't forget how awkward he had felt the last time he was with her alone. He knew perfectly well there was no such thing as love potion, but if the little bottle sitting in his pocket did some sort of good, no matter what that may be, then he supposed he wouldn't consider it a lost afternoon.

"Why, Jack, it's so good to see you!" Medda trailed down the steps in a flouncy yellow dress and pulled Jack into an embrace, filling his senses with her perfume. "And Sarah, you look as lovely as ever. You two are just in time to meet my newest actor Nicky."

A boy not much older than Jack appeared behind Medda and he approached them with his head held high, as if his very presence was worthy of everyone's attention. With average brown hair and dark, almost colorless eyes, he wasn't a very striking figure but he bowed gallantly to Jack and Sarah, like a courtier visiting from some far-off court.

"Nicholas Weaver," he said grandly, after kissing Sarah's hand. "But you may call me Nicky."

"Pleasure to meet ya, Your Highness," said Jack, not liking the looks of this fellow at all.

Medda gave Nicky an indulgent pat on the shoulder. "You'll see Nicky on stage in just a few moments, dears. He'll be playing the part of a donkey."

"I could play a whole herd of donkeys if you asked me to," said Nicky, while Jack coughed into his hand to hide the smirk that spread across his face. "Why, I could play an entire menagerie, a lion tamer, a cowboy, a stableman, a dog breeder, you name it! I could even play _your_ role, Miss Larkson, if I was given half the chance."

"He's quite the joker, isn't he?" said Medda.

"Quite," Sarah agreed, though she looked as if she wasn't sure what to make of the whole matter.

"C'mon," said Jack, taking her by the arm. "Let's find us a good seat."

"I look forward to your applause!" Nicky called after them.

Jack just snorted and directed Sarah into the hall, where they found an empty table and ordered two glasses of ice water. "What a character that Nicky is, ain't he?" said Jack. "I'd like to see a fellow like him sell headlines, 'cept he'd prob'ly run the rest of us outta business."

"Have you ever thought about working here someday?" Sarah asked, regarding him thoughtfully. "You know you'll have to stop selling papers eventually."

"Work _here_? And do what? Be some kinda actor like that bum Nicky? I dunno, Sarah, maybe me and you can head west someday, get outta the city and do whatever we please."

"You know I don't want to do that."

Jack wanted to argue further, but they had already argued this point plenty of times and there was nothing more for him to say. Just because her pop got a new job and David went back to school, Sarah was getting all of these uppity ideas, thinking Jack could better himself and stay off the streets, but what did she know about the kind of life he lived? Absolutely nothing, that was what. Fine, she didn't want Les learning how to sell papers, and she didn't want to leave her family behind, but she had to understand that New York had never been kind to people like Jack, and if he wanted to better himself then he had to get out of that stifling city.

But he supposed that argument would have to be resolved some other day. The curtain was going up and Medda stepped forward, ready to open her mouth and sing. A couple of minutes into the performance Jack remembered the little bottle he still carried in his pocket, and he figured it was as good a time as any to find out how much Race was pulling his leg. If he was lucky, that bottle might contain some liquor that would hopefully get Sarah into the mood to do a little more than sit around with him and talk about matters that only got both of them annoyed in the end.

Sarah had her head turned towards the stage, all of her attention focused on Medda and the actors who accompanied her, and she didn't notice at all when Jack tipped the contents of the bottle into her ice water.

"Say, there's our friend Mr. High-and-Mighty up there," Jack remarked as an actor wearing a donkey's head came on stage.

Sarah drank deeply from her glass of water and turned her eyes upon the donkey. "Yes, he's beautiful, isn't he?" she murmured.

"Beautiful? Yeah, if you like an average schmuck who thinks he's somethin' grand."

"Jack, you shouldn't say such rude things about Nicholas Weaver," said Sarah. "Just look at him; he makes a perfect animal."

"You feelin' all right, Sarah?"

Sarah's eyes were bright as she looked at Jack. "Of course I'm all right. The man I love is up on stage, showing New York that you can wear a donkey's head and still be great."

A prickle of fear ran up Jack's spine, and he tried to convince himself that Sarah was trying to fool him, but the more he listened to her talk the more he was convinced that something fishy was in that bottle he used on her.

He hated to admit it, but it looked like he would be owing Race five cents after all.


	5. O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?

V.

_O, why rebuke you him that loves you so? _

Henrietta was surprised when she returned from the bakery, brown paper parcel clutched under one arm, and found Hannah talking to Blink. Hannah was such a quiet thing most of the time who hardly dared to talk to boys she didn't know well, and besides, hadn't she promised not to meddle in Henrietta's plans? Something must be wrong; perhaps Henrietta's father had discovered her disappearance and forced Hannah to search for her, but if her father was so concerned then why didn't he seek her out himself?

No, that couldn't be the reason Hannah was there. Blink had taken her by the hand and looked awfully strange doing so, while Hannah looked frightened. Growing anxious herself, Henrietta tightened her grip on the parcel and approached the two of them so that she was close enough to hear.

"She ain't nothin' compared to you," she heard Blink say, and that was when Hannah's startled face found Henrietta's.

"Henrietta," Hannah said weakly.

"Henrietta who?" said Blink. "I'm only interested in the sweet name of Hannah. C'mon now, darlin', and lemme see if your mouth is as pretty as your name, will ya?"

"Blink, what are you doing?" Henrietta demanded. Confusion and fury waged war inside her, though fury was winning out the longer she stared at Blink holding Hannah by the hand. "I leave your side for several minutes to purchase some food, and I return to find you giving away your affections like they're those silly papers you pawn off all day."

"Aw, put a lid on it, shorty," said Blink.

For once in her life, Henrietta didn't know what to say. What happened to the boy who wanted to take her away from her oppressive home and run away with her, not caring about anything but their future life together? What happened to the boy she trusted, the boy she loved? Surely this was some imposter pretending to be Blink, or else Henrietta had somehow stepped into another world when she left that bakery. Wasn't there a book about a girl who did such a thing? Perhaps Henrietta was like Alice entering Wonderland, only instead of entering a dream world she had entered a nightmare.

"Blink, what has happened to you?" Henrietta demanded. "You're not yourself."

Hannah wrenched her hand out of Blink's grasp and turned imploring eyes upon Henrietta. "He was acting strange the moment I arrived. I promise I didn't encourage him!"

"I don't need encouragin', beautiful," Blink told Hannah. "Let's ditch the midget here. I'm tired of listenin' to her."

"Midget?" Henrietta echoed. She knew she was shorter than most girls her age, but nobody had ever been cruel about it before.

"That's right," said Blink, a derisive look in his one visible eye. "You're a midget, and I don't want nothin' to do with ya."

"What have you done to him?" Henrietta asked, rounding on Hannah. "He was perfectly fine until _you_ showed up while I was conveniently in the shop. I bet you don't want anybody else to be happy because David doesn't want you. Is that right?"

Hannah looked even more confused, which did nothing to gain Henrietta's sympathy. In fact, Henrietta would have loved nothing more than to tear Hannah's dark braids right out of her head. At long last, Henrietta had the chance to escape her father and be with the boy she loved, regardless of anyone's opinion, and the whole thing was spoiled for her thanks to Hannah's constant meddling.

"Both of you are horrible," said Hannah. "Absolutely horrible!" She turned on her heel and fled down the street, and before Henrietta could grasp what was happening Blink tore off after her, dropping newspapers all over the cobbles.

"Wait!" Henrietta called after them both. She picked up her traveling bag and coat, left behind next to Blink's scattered papers, and awkwardly tried running with the bag in one hand and her parcel from the bakery in the other. "Blink! Come back here!"

But she knew it was a lost cause the moment Hannah and Blink vanished from her sight. Henrietta was all alone with nothing but her luggage and some rapidly cooling pastries for company, and tears sprang to her eyes as she trudged along and wondered what she would do.

* * *

><p>Race hurried over to Malone's pub, carting along the few love potions he hadn't sold yet, and made a beeline for the side entrance that led to Flower's home. He thought it would be harmless to take Flower's advice and watch the effects of the potion, since he wasn't expecting any effects in the first place, so he decided to try it out on Blink and told him it was an energy draught so he would buy the stuff. After all, a fellow like Blink didn't need love potion when he had a looker like Henrietta following him around.<p>

So Race gave Blink the bottle, then kept himself hidden so he could see what happened. Blink had waited until he was alone to drink the bottle, and when some girl came along he acted like he was in love with her, to Race's astonishment. The moment Race realized what was going on, he took off running for Malone's and didn't even care that he had only earned thirty-five cents.

Race rapped upon the apartment door. "Flower? It's Race!"

The door creaked open and Race found himself facing not Flower's redheaded figure, but a wizened face and wisps of white hair. Well if that didn't beat all. Race had forgotten all about the old grandmother, and now her spooky mug was right in front of him, her eyes probing into his face like she was staring into his soul.

"Hiya there," said Race, forcing himself to look anywhere but her eyes. "Your granddaughter around?"

"Letitia is inside," said the grandmother. "The two o' you have been brewin' mischief, have ya?"

"Course not. We're nothin' but a pair of angels."

"I may not leave this house, but I knows what you've brought to the streets o' New York. All that Letitia knows, I taught her from ancient magic I learned in the Old Country."

"Yeah, that's real fascinatin', ma'am," said Race, growing impatient. "I really gotta talk to Flower— or Letitia. You mind gettin' her for me?"

The old grandmother, somewhat stooped with age, shuffled away from the door and Race followed her inside, trying to ignore how she muttered to herself under her breath. The old lady wasn't playing with a full deck, that was for sure.

"Race? Is that you?" Flower's familiar face appeared around a corner, looking curious one moment and concerned the next. "You're back awful quick."

"It only takes a moment to create a world o' mischief," the old grandmother muttered.

Flower ignored her and stepped forward so she could grab Race by the arm. "C'mon. We can talk in the back room."

"Pleasure speakin' with ya, ma'am," Race told the grandmother, then followed Flower into the same room he had met her in earlier that day, only this time his business matter had taken a far more urgent turn. "Listen, Flower, you gotta tell me what you put in those bottles, 'cause it sure as hell ain't liquor."

"Took my advice then, did ya?" asked Flower, smirking at him.

"Yeah, I took your advice, and I want an explanation!"

"Ain't nothin' to explain, really. I told ya we'd be sellin' love potion and you're makin' quite a profit off the stuff, so why complain?"

"This love potion is the real deal," said Race. "I saw one of my friends fall in love with some girl on the street, right in front of my eyes. And sure, it was hilarious, but we can't just leave the poor fella like that. He's got a girl."

"Well that ain't my concern," said Flower. "What _does_ concern me is the pennies in your pockets, and I know they concern you too or else ya wouldn't have sold those bottles in the first place."

"Yeah, and you'll keep fillin' my ears with pretty words like that, and soon I'll forget all about why I'm here. I ain't fallin' for that, Flower."

"Fallin' for what? All I'm sayin' is that we both like earnin' a buck and damn the consequences, right?"

Race knew she was right, and he would bet all the money in his pockets that he would go right back to selling the potions the moment he left the apartment, simply because he liked earning that almighty dollar so much. And yet he couldn't just continue the business until he knew what he was selling exactly, because the words "love potion" alone weren't going to cut it for him. And besides, as funny as it was to see Blink making a fool of himself over some strange girl, there had to be some way of putting him to rights.

Because after all, an antidote was an extra way to make a profit, and Race cared about his fellow newsies and all, but he always jumped at the chance to make more dough.

"Say, I got an idea for ya, Flower. But first ya gotta tell me what's in that potion of yours."

Flower's mood, which had been easy-going enough a moment ago, quickly changed its course. "So you're after my secrets then, are ya, Race? Think you can cut me outta the deal and manage on your own?"

"Aw, 'course not, darlin'. I know there ain't nobody who can whip up one of those potions as well as you can."

"You swear you won't make any potions yourself?"

"Cross my heart. I may bend the rules a bit when playin' poker, but I'd never lie to _you_."

"Well..." Flower regarded him with suspicious eyes that grew warmer the longer she looked at him. "In that case, I _suppose_ I can tell ya what's in those bottles, but don't tell nobody else, you hear?"

Race fought to keep a grin off his face. He never knew what mood Flower was going to be in, but he could usually find a way to persuade her in the long run. He supposed it was the Italian in him; it worked the ladies like a charm. "Course I won't tell nobody. It ain't none of their business."

"Ah, now that's exactly what I wanna hear," said Flower. "Now, if you wanna make a love potion, all ya gotta do is brew together some basil, cloves, and coriander."

"Huh," said Race. "That's it, then? No dead frogs or spiders or nothin'?"

"Callin' me a witch, are ya?"

"Now why would I do a thing like that, sweetheart? If you _are_ a witch, then you're the prettiest witch I ever set eyes on."

Flower smiled widely. "Now you're just flatterin' me."

"And you're enjoyin' it too," said Race. "Listen, let's you and me quit talkin' in circles and discuss this business idea I've got. You know what'll happen if ya make an antidote for that love potion of yours?"

"What'll happen?"

"Double the profits, that's what."

* * *

><p>David knew he shouldn't have told Hannah to head home by herself, but it was too late to go back and fix the situation. Hurting Hannah was the last thing he wanted to do, but David was an honest person, and he couldn't allow Hannah to believe that she had a chance when David loved someone else. Perhaps if he wasn't so honest, he could abide by his mother's wishes and keep company with the girl of her choosing, and then he and Hannah would both learn to be perfectly miserable in time.<p>

No, he couldn't do that to himself or to Hannah, no matter how much she claimed to like him.

What drove him to keep walking through the streets of Manhattan was the knowledge that Henrietta, the girl he admired, had run away from her home with another boy for reasons that David still couldn't comprehend. He knew what betrayal looked like and he certainly knew what it felt like, thanks to Jack turning scab over the summer, but he couldn't imagine Henrietta betraying him in such a way. She was always so forthright for one thing, with an honesty that matched David's, and if this whole situation was somehow Blink's fault then David wasn't sure if he could keep his anger in check.

It _had_ to be Blink's doing. Henrietta had never complained in all the times David had walked her home from school, and she had never mentioned associating with the newsies who had once been David's selling partners.

David wished it was just an ordinary day of the week and they were walking together right this moment, just a pair of children quickly reaching adulthood but still innocent in a way. Henrietta wasn't much of a reader, unlike David, but she was smart in other ways and offered a clever perspective that was somehow more worthwhile than all the clever things David had read in books.

She was so bright, so beautiful, and so refreshing after a day spent in the classroom.

She was so spirited and determined, qualities that David admired.

She was right behind him when David stopped to retie his bootlaces, turning a corner onto his street. She was too far away to notice him, but the moment David spotted her familiar features he let go of his laces and headed towards her, letting his emotions take over.

"Henrietta!"

She carried luggage and a coat, confirming that she had indeed run away from home, and her brown eyes looked startled—an expression that David had never seen on her face before. "David, what are you doing here?"

"I've been trying to find you, that's what," said David. "Where's Blink? I heard that he's with you."

"I _was_ with Blink," said Henrietta, sounding surprisingly bitter. "But then he... the strangest thing happened! You won't believe it if I tell you."

"I've heard a lot of unbelievable things today, Henrietta. I don't think one more will make much of a difference."

"I went into the bakery to get some pastries for me and Blink—I had to eat them both myself just now—and when I came back outside I found Blink giving his attentions to Hannah! And he seemed perfectly serious about it too, as if I no longer existed. The two of them ran off and I tried to follow them, but they were both too quick, and now I've been stuck walking the streets by myself."

David processed this information and felt an unexpected, guilty bit of hope rise up within him. If Blink had transferred his affections to Hannah, then it would hopefully make the situation simpler for everyone who was involved, and he wouldn't need to worry about Henrietta running off with Blink. At least he knew that Hannah wasn't in any danger, and if luck was on his side she would forget about him and learn to love Blink instead.

"Did you ever stop and wonder if this happened for a reason?" he asked Henrietta. Words had always been his strong point and he made use of that now. "If Blink wants to be with Hannah, then that's his choice. I'll walk you home and you can apologize to your father for running away."

"You don't understand," said Henrietta. "You didn't _see_ him. It was unnatural, like Blink had been put under a spell while I was gone."

"Well you know there's no such thing as spells. Blink has clearly made up his mind."

"I understand what you're saying, and if you think I'm going to go running into your arms because Blink has betrayed me, then you're wrong."

David felt like he had been punched right in the chest, and surely it was a crime for Henrietta to look so pretty when she was earnest. "Henrietta, you know how much I care for you and—"

"Go to hell, David," Henrietta cut in, making that punch feel all the more painful. "I know something isn't right with Blink and I'm going to find out the cause of it."

"And how do you expect to do that?"

"Go to the Newsboys Lodging House, of course."

"It will take you all day to find it," said David. "I'm going to have to lead the way and we'll _both_ question Blink when we get there."

Henrietta pursed her lips into a thin line, but she didn't argue and followed David down the street.


	6. And so far blameless

VI.

_And so far blameless proves my enterprise _

Jack tried to drag Sarah out of Irving Hall once he realized that the love potion he had given her was in fact real, but she was completely smitten with that ridiculous actor Nicholas Weaver, and she wouldn't stop going on about how charming she found his donkey costume. The fool was wearing a _donkey's head_, for crying out loud. If somebody had warned Jack that he would lose his girl's affections to a bum dressed as a farm animal, he would have laughed until he cried. He supposed it was his own fault for giving Sarah the potion in the first place, but how was he supposed to know that little bottle contained a real actual potion?

Race had a helluva lot of explaining to do, that was for sure.

"Sarah, don'tcha wanna get outside for some air or somethin'?" Jack asked. "Don't want that pretty face of yours to get pale, am I right?"

"Oh, I can't leave now," Sarah insisted. "I'm sure Nicky's backstage right this moment, ready to come back for the next performance."

And Nicky did come back, looking as puffed up and full of himself as ever, but he wasn't wearing that ridiculous costume anymore, and Sarah's face fell at the sight of him. "Jack, what happened to him?" she whispered.

"I don't see no difference," said Jack. "He's still an ass."

"His donkey's head is gone."

"Yeah, that's too bad, actually. It really improved his looks."

Sarah was rather sulky throughout the rest of the act, and Jack thought longingly of all the papers he hadn't sold that day. Boy, he would be paying for it tomorrow, and probably the day after that, and it was all because he wanted to know if Race was trying to fool him or not. Jack reminded himself never to get involved in deals with Racetrack Higgins ever again, unless he wanted to ruin his life.

Nicky disappeared from stage again and Sarah tugged at Jack's shirt sleeve. "Let's go backstage. I need to see him and his costume."

"Sarah, if ya like donkeys so much, I'll take you out to a farm, all right?"

"This isn't funny," said Sarah. "You can join me if you want to, but I'm going to see him either way."

"Ya know, that ain't such a good idea. You don't even know this Nicky fella."

"Neither do you. It isn't fair of you to be so judgmental."

"Judgmental? I ain't the one who's suddenly in love with the bummer."

"You just don't understand," said Sarah. "A person's appearance isn't always the most important thing, you know."

Jack couldn't think of a smart reply and felt a strong urge to hunt Race down and give him a well-deserved soaking. The trouble was, Race could be anywhere in the city and Jack wanted answers from him badly, but he couldn't leave Sarah when she was in such an unpredictable state. The moment he left her, she might get herself into all kinds of trouble, and how would Jack explain that to her ma when he brought her home? He and Sarah may have had their differences lately, but he didn't want to lose the privilege of seeing her again thanks to a moment of carelessness.

Completely miserable, Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest and cursed love potions with every fiber of his being.

* * *

><p>Race didn't have to walk far to reach the Newsboys Lodging House, which was lucky because he needed to intercept Blink as soon as possible. He didn't know how long it took to brew up a love potion antidote, but he knew Flower had gotten started on it the moment he left her, and he hoped the odds of her finishing it on time were good ones. He never expected some simple little bottles to cause so much trouble, and he certainly never expected love potions to be real until he saw Blink's feelings transform in front of his eyes, as easily as if that Henrietta girl had never existed.<p>

Who would have thought that Race would see such strange things in this lifetime of his? What would happen next? Flying machines? Magic typewriters?

Luck was on Race's side that day; not long after he reached the lodging house, he saw two familiar figures walking down Duane Street. Blink didn't have a single paper with him, but he had a ridiculous grin on his face as if someone had given him a hundred dollars, and the girl with the dark braids walked beside him, looking thoroughly unhappy as she listened to him chatter on relentlessly. She was the same girl Blink had been flirting with earlier, the girl he fell in love with after drinking Flower's potion, and Race felt bad for her because she didn't seem to appreciate any of Blink's attention.

He couldn't blame her, really, though he thought a girl like her ought to perk up after hearing a compliment or two. Wasn't that what girls always liked to hear?

"Hi there, Blink," said Race, strolling up to the two of them. "Done sellin' today?"

"Aw, who cares about sellin'?" said Blink. "I got me the finest girl in New York."

Race peered into Hannah's face, pretending to scrutinize her closely. "Say, this don't look a thing like the girl you was with earlier. I thought _she_ was the finest girl in New York."

"Course not," said Blink, laughing. "This here's Hannah, the sweetest girl I've ever set eyes on."

"You mean _eye_, don'tcha?" said Race. "If this dame here is so sweet, so then why's she look so unhappy to be with ya, huh?"

"I agreed to go to the lodging house with Blink," said Hannah, looking embarrassed as her eyes darted to meet Race's, "because he promised he wouldn't try to hold my hand or kiss me if I did. Besides, I was hoping we would encounter someone who could explain his strange behavior and find a way to fix him."

"You don't gotta explain any further, girlie," said Race, interrupting Hannah before she could go on to describe Blink's behavior. "Cause it just so happens that I know _exactly_ what's wrong with him."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with me!" Blink protested. "I feel better than I've felt in _years_!"

Hannah's eyes were pleading as she looked at Race, and she looked increasingly uncomfortable standing out in front of the lodging house with a lovestruck, one-eyed newsie for company. "The two of you better head inside," said Race, casting a shifty glance at the passerby. "I got some explainin' to do."

"I'll go anywhere Hannah's goin'," said Blink, which was reason enough for Race to lead both him and Hannah into the front lobby of the lodging house.

Old Kloppman stood behind the counter and adjusted the spectacles that sat perched upon his nose. "That a girl I see?" he asked. "Now boys, you know the policy on girls in the house."

"Yeah, yeah, we know the rules," Race said briskly. "But this here's an emergency."

He started up the stairs, followed by a bewildered Hannah and a distracted Blink, and entered the thankfully quiet bunk room. "Alright, this here is gonna sound crazy, but it's true," said Race. "The reason ol' One-Eye here is smitten with a girl he don't even know is 'cause of this love potion I gave him." Race reached into Blink's pocket, much to Blink's protest, and extracted the empty bottle. "Ya see? This little devil is the one who started it all."

"You lyin' little weasel," said Blink. "There ain't no such thing as love potion, and even if there _was_, I sure as hell didn't drink one. My love for Hannah's real!"

"Yeah, as real as Santa Claus," said Race. "I'm tellin' ya, Blink, it's a potion that's makin' you act like this, ya hear?" He turned to Hannah, who looked quietly astounded. "You believe me, don'tcha doll? Why else would this joker turn his attentions on you so sudden?"

"I don't know," said Hannah. "Is there _really_ such a thing as love potion? Do you have any more?"

"Yeah, but it'll cost ya," said Race. "Five cents a bottle. Four cents for an antidote, 'cept I don't got the antidote with me, so I'll have to take Blink to the girl who's makin' it."

"I don't need no antidote," Blink said stubbornly. "Ain't nothin' wrong with me!"

Race was ready to open his mouth with a smart retort, when he felt a tug on his shirt sleeve. Hannah was right next to him, getting his attention with one hand while the other hand was outstretched, a small pile of shiny pennies sitting in her palm. "Here's five cents for a love potion," she said. "Would you mind giving me one of those bottles?"

Well, that was an unexpected turn of events. Who would have thought that an innocent looking girl like Hannah would ask Race for a love potion? "I dunno, girlie," he said. "Aint'cha got enough trouble with Blink here? 'Course, I wouldn't mind sellin' you double the antidote."

"Oh no, I won't be needing a second antidote," she said. "Just the antidote for Blink and the love potion I asked for."

It wasn't any of Race's business to ask who she planned to use that potion on, though he was burning with curiosity. Still, a profit was a profit and if Hannah ever changed her mind about that other antidote, then Race would be more than happy to sell it to her. "Sure thing," he said. Luckily he still had a couple of bottles in his pockets and gave one to Hannah, then accepted the pennies she gave him. "Now you use that stuff wisely, ya hear?"

"Of course," said Hannah. She looked strangely pleased with herself, and Race wondered if she was really so innocent after all. They always said you couldn't trust the quiet ones, girls included, and Race promised himself he would keep an eye on Hannah just in case she wanted to test that potion on _him_.

"Either of you hear somethin'?" Blink spoke up, apparently too enamored with Hannah to wonder why she had purchased a love potion from Race.

Race strained his ears and picked up the sound of voices downstairs—two male voices, one of them distinctly Kloppman's, and a female voice. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "I'm gonna go check it out, so behave yourselves, ya hear? 'Specially _you_, Blink. I don't want no funny business with that little lady over there, or I'll soak ya somethin' good."

"Sure thing, Race," said Blink. "I wouldn't dream of disrespectin' a beautiful girl like Hannah. Ain't that right, Hannah?"

"You've been wanting to kiss me since we met on the street," Hannah said disdainfully. "I wouldn't trust you for the world."

"Yeah, well you kids play nice," said Race. He left the bunk room and headed down the stairs, figuring all this mayhem was a sight better than a boring day selling on the streets, even if he was making more money than usual thanks to Flower's love potion, and nearly laughed out loud when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Even Race wouldn't have bet on these odds, because the last thing he expected to see was David and that first girl he had seen with Blink, the one named Henrietta or something. And yet there they were, as plain as day, and Race strolled right up to the pair of them knowing that once they all got upstairs, things would get very interesting indeed. "Well if it ain't Blink's girl," he said to Henrietta. "Just who I've been waitin' to see."

"Why's that?" asked David, eying Race with suspicion.

"He was talking to _me_, David," said Henrietta. "We're looking for Blink," she added to Race. "Have you seen him around lately?"

"You're in luck, girlie," said Race. "Your fella happens to be right upstairs this very moment. Lemme take you to him."

Henrietta didn't wait around for Race to lead the way. She headed straight up the stairs, ignoring Kloppman's puzzled question of why _another_ girl had wormed her way into the lodging house, and David was right on her heels. Race had no idea what David had to do with any of the chaos that had unfolded that day, but he figured he would find out soon enough and brought up the rear, not wanting to miss a thing. As soon as the three of them entered the bunk room, voices broke out all at once, turning the once-quiet atmosphere into a whirl of surprise and confusion. Henrietta confronted Blink, who laughed at her and refused to leave Hannah's side, Hannah couldn't take her eyes off of David, and David tried to calm down Henrietta, while Race stood by and tried to figure out their tangled relations.

"David." Hannah escaped Blink and hurried to David's side, looking a whole lot happier than Race had seen her before. "Let's leave this place and get away from them. I don't know what Henrietta has told you, but I want _nothing_ to do with Blink."

"I'm not leaving until I find out what's going on," David told her firmly.

Race continued to watch the two of them, noticing the way Hannah looked at David, and suddenly it all fit together. So _that_ was why Hannah had wanted a love potion from Race. She hoped to ensnare good old David, who apparently didn't return her feelings, and Race couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

There was no harm in him helping the poor girl, was there?


	7. My legs can keep no pace with my desires

VII.

_My legs can keep no pace with my desires_

Hannah felt left out as she stood in the lodging house bunk room, listening to David and Henrietta attempt to question Blink, who seemed confused by all of their questions. He kept throwing longing looks at Hannah, which made her more uncomfortable by the second, and she wished she could just take David by the hand and run out of that place, back to the world of order and reason. How did she get caught up in such nonsense anyway? All she wanted to do was follow David and bring him back to his senses, and here she was in a strange lodging house dealing with problems she could happily do without.

If Henrietta hadn't been foolish enough to run away from home, none of this would have happened, and Hannah couldn't help but shoot an annoyed look at Henrietta, who was currently asking that Racetrack boy about the love potion that altered Blink's sensibilities. If only David had been the one to drink that love potion instead of Blink. Then none of them would be in this horrible mess and David wouldn't be wasting his time chasing after a girl who already belonged to another boy, even if that boy was behaving like a fool because of a potion.

"I still don't believe it," David was saying, ever the sensible one. "Blink drank something out of a bottle and it caused him to fall in love with Hannah?"

"Ah, don't be an idiot, Davey," said Blink. "Course it didn't happen 'cause of some bottle. I've _always_ been in love with Hannah."

"You didn't even _know_ Hannah until today," Henrietta told him, rapidly losing patience. "The potion is the most likely explanation we have, and you're going to be set to rights whether you like it or not."

Hannah sighed and let them continue arguing, too weary of the matter to offer any input. Her eyes landed upon Race, who held a flask in his hand, the kind that some of the men in Hannah's tenement drank whiskey from. "Boy, am I gettin' thirsty after all this nonsense," said Race. "Hey Davey, you need a little somethin' to drink? I got water here."

"Water would be nice," David said absently. He still appeared upset over losing Henrietta and looked hard at Blink, as if he would love nothing more than to give Blink a reason to wear a second eye patch.

Race looked as if he had taken a swig from the flask, but Hannah was watching him closely and noticed that his lips didn't even touch the rim. "Here ya go, Davey." He passed the flask off to David, who took a gulp from it, and sent a strange little wink in Hannah's direction. Hannah ignored Race's wink and edged closer to David, the only person she felt she could trust anymore.

"David," said Hannah, feeling more uneasy than ever. "Instead of trying to question Blink, why don't you just let Henrietta take him to get fixed? I don't think he'll be able to tell anything you want to know when he's in this state."

"Of course," said David, looking at her with more interest than he had shown all day. "I shouldn't have been chasing after him in the first place. He's welcome to have Henrietta."

"He is?" said Henrietta, betraying her confusion.

"Whaddya mean _I'm_ welcome to have her?" said Blink. "I don't want nothin' to do with the broad. Like I said a million times, Hannah's the one I've got my eye on."

"Emphasis on _eye_," said Race, chuckling to himself.

"Well Hannah and I are leaving," David said firmly. "And not you, or anybody else is going to stop us, Blink." He took Hannah by the hand, much to her surprise and private delight, and held onto it with a warm pressure that reassured her in the sea of chaos.

Race caught Hannah's eye a second time and winked again, and suddenly Hannah realized what had happened with the flask. Race must have slipped some love potion inside of it before passing it off to David. "Consider it a discount, doll," Race said, while Henrietta tried to calm down a suddenly agitated Blink.

"Now wait just a minute, Davey," said Blink, balling his hands up into fists. "You can't just take Hannah away like that. I'll fight ya for her! I'll knock your lights out! Wipe the streets with your lousy face!"

"You're not fighting anyone, Blink," said David. "You have a girl who's perfectly willing to be with you, so why don't you be happy with what you've got and leave Hannah alone?"

"How am I s'posed to leave Hannah alone when she's _my_ girl? Now get your lousy hands off her or things are gonna get ugly."

David ignored Blink and took Hannah downstairs, while Race and Henrietta restrained Blink to keep him from launching an attack. Hannah could still hear him shouting, even when she reached the bottom of the staircase, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse in her own bed at home and shut her eyes for an hour, or perhaps the rest of the day and night. Was it really only that morning when she caught Henrietta running away from home?

"Now what do we do?" she asked, grateful to escape the chaos within the bunk room.

To her surprise, David released her hand and took her by the arm, then gently steered her out of the lodging house, as if the day's events had never happened at all. "Hannah Rosenthal, I'd like to walk you home," he said.

It really _was_ too good to be genuine, but that wouldn't stop Hannah from enjoying it. "David Jacobs, I think that sounds like a fine idea."

* * *

><p>Race had never wanted to strangle Blink so badly in his life. After David and Hannah were conveniently out of the way, Race and Henrietta had to lead Blink out of the lodging house and towards Malone's pub, with the false promise that Hannah would be there waiting for him. That made Blink's cooperation easy enough, but he insisted on walking at a brisk pace and wouldn't stop talking about how much he adored Hannah, which put Henrietta in a terrible mood, which meant that Race had to put up with a lovesick newsie and an irritated girl the whole walk to Malone's. By the time the three of them reached the pub, he was sure he would have a headache soon, or maybe an ulcer.<p>

"Where's Hannah at?" Blink asked for the third time since they reached the pub.

"You'll see her soon enough," Henrietta said through gritted teeth. Her loose brown curls tumbled around her shoulders, making her look a bit wild, and her eyes flashed dangerously as she looked at Race. "I do hope this will work. I can't tolerate another minute of him in this state."

"Neither can I," Race muttered. "Now Flower here is a friend of mine and she'll fix Blink right up, as long as you're polite to her. Her old grandmother is another story. Just ignore the old broad and try not to stare into her eyes, and you'll be fine."

Race slipped into the pub's side entrance, hurried up the stairs that led to Flower's apartment, and rapped upon the door with his knuckles. Nobody responded, so he waited a few moments and knocked again. He half-expected the spooky grandmother to open up and scare them all half to death with her piercing eyes, but all of Race's attempts at getting someone's attention failed.

"Is Hannah in there?" Blink asked. "Ya think she misses me?"

Henrietta didn't bother responding this time, though her face said exactly how she felt on the matter.

"Well, only one thing to do now," said Race. He tried to turn the doorknob, found that it was unlocked, and pushed the door open. "Now you're gonna hafta be quiet. 'Specially _you_, Blink."

Blink nodded his head eagerly and his one good eye roved about, anxious to catch a glimpse of Hannah. Perhaps it was a bit cruel to lie to the poor fellow, but Race did what had to be done and besides, he was a newsie. Being a newsie involved a great deal of lying, so deceiving Blink was excellent practice for the next time Race scammed some extra papers out of the citizens of New York. Race was the kind of guy who always looked on the bright side. Every cloud had a silver lining, or a copper lining since most of his personal gain involved pennies.

Flower's grandmother was nowhere to be seen, though a big grey cat sprang out of the way and darted out of sight, startled by Race's entrance. "Hannah?" Blink whispered, and Race quickly shushed him.

He knew exactly where to find Flower and headed to the back room, Blink and Henrietta bringing up the rear, towards the faint smell of smoke and something else he couldn't identify. There Flower was at the back of the room, red hair wisping about her head as she tended to a large pot that hung over a fire, and Race cleared his throat loud enough for her to hear.

"What's cookin', doll?" he asked.

Flower looked up from the pot and narrowed her grey eyes at him. "Think you can just let yourself in whenever you please?"

"I let myself in when I got business, and I just happen to have a tidy profit all lined up for ya."

"Well in that case..." Flower trailed off, having noticed Henrietta and Blink standing behind Race. "And what's this? Ya know I don't like unexpected visitors, Race, 'specially when I'm busy. You're gonna have to tell your friends to leave."

"Aw, come on, Flower. This is the fella who needs the antidote, and I brought his girl along too."

"Hannah ain't here," Blink remarked with disappointment. Henrietta shushed him.

Flower removed the spoon from her pot and brandished it towards Race, as if she intended to throw it at his head. "Rules is rules. I don't want strangers around when I'm doin' my work, so send your friends packin' and _maybe_ I'll help 'em."

"Fair enough," said Race. It was never any use to argue with Flower, and she was clearly in one of her moods, which made it worse. "Blink, Henrietta, ya gotta scram for a few minutes. Go for a walk or somethin'."

"We'll go find Hannah," Henrietta said, thoroughly sulky as she led Blink by the hand. "Will that make you happy, Blink?"

Race didn't hear Blink's reply. The two of them disappeared from the back room and Race edged closer to Flower, smiling at her in what he hoped was a charming manner. "So you got that antidote ready for me yet? I already got the payment in advance."

"I wanna be paid extra for doin' all this extra work," she replied, stirring her pot once more. "Only fair."

"Well ya never mentioned that before!"

"That's 'cause I only decided it just now."

"Ya can't do that, Flower. We made an agreement. I'm splittin' the profits fifty-fifty, same as always."

"Then you won't be gettin' your antidote." Flower's lips curved into a subtle smile, and her eyes shone with wicked amusement. "And here I was thinkin' you cared about your friends, Race."

"I _do_ care about 'em. It's just that you change moods faster than I can keep up with, and the payment keeps changin'. What am I s'posed to do, huh?"

Flower's smile grew a little bigger and she beckoned Race closer, like a witch luring her victim. "Say please for that antidote, first of all."

Race wanted to say a lot of impolite things first, just to get back at her for tormenting him so much, but he swallowed those words and stepped forward until he was right in front of the pot. "All right, then. _Please_, Your Highness, can I have one of them antidotes for my friend?"

"Maybe," Flower replied. "Depends on how much you're willin' to give me."

Race sighed. "Would it make ya happy if I gave every last cent?"

"Well now that you mention it, that sounds wonderful. One antidote comin' right up for Racetrack Higgins, and in exchange I get the whole profit."

"You drive a hard bargain, doll. A real hard bargain."

Flower produced an empty bottle from her apron pocket and winked at Race. "But that's why ya deal with me, ain't it?"

Girls were nothing but trouble and that was a fact, but at least Race was about to fix the mess he had made.


	8. The object and the pleasure of mine eye

**Author's Note:** Well, I finally found the motivation to work on this story again. After neglecting it for months on end, I forced myself to sit down and finish it. This is basically the end of the story, but I posted up an epilogue as well, which can be found on the next chapter.

* * *

><p>VIII.<p>

_The object and the pleasure of mine eye_

Blink was confused. He stood out on the street in front of some pub named Malone's, with no idea of how he got there, and all of his papers had mysteriously disappeared. The only thing that made sense was Henrietta's presence, though she was staring at him with the strangest look on her face. "I thought we was headed to the lodging house," said Blink, staring around in bewilderment. "Where the hell are we?"

"What do you mean?" asked Henrietta. "You're the one who wanted to come out here searching for Hannah."

"Who's Hannah?"

"You know perfectly well who Hannah is. You've been chasing her skirt all day."

Had Blink been sleeping for the last couple of hours? Did some drunken bum hit him over the head with a broken bottle? "Henrietta, you're talkin' crazy. I ain't interested in no broad named Hannah and I ain't chasin' nobody's skirt. We're runnin' off together, remember?"

"But you were just..." Henrietta trailed off, looking thoughtful all of a sudden. "Blink, what's the last thing you remember?"

This wasn't the girl Blink had planned to be with forever. This wasn't his Henrietta, who was fearless and full of life and didn't waste time asking silly questions. Blink gaped at her, rapidly growing fed up with the whole situation. "What is this?" he demanded. "You playin' some kind of game or what?"

"Just answer the question. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I don't know. Wait, no... I was standin' out on the street, a different street from this one, tryin' to sell some papers. You was getting' hungry, so you went into the bakery to get pastries or somethin'. Next thing I know, we're standin' out here, in front of this pub."

"And that's all?"

"Yeah, that's all. Ya think I'm lyin'? And how'd we get here anyway? This ain't the way to the lodging house."

But Henrietta wasn't listening. She looked wearier than Blink remembered, her long brown curls in disarray around her face, and Blink started to feel weary just looking at her. What the hell were they doing anyway, thinking they could run away from the world and live a life of independence? Did they really think they would be happy that way? When they first set out on their little journey, Blink was only focusing on the fun, without any thought to responsibility, but now he saw himself and Henrietta living in some miserable one-room dwelling in a run-down boarding house, unable to get anything better on Blink's measly wages. He saw himself taking comfort in the whiskey bottle, spending late nights at the saloon to forget how poor and wretched his life was. He saw Henrietta running off with another man, leaving their kids behind without an apology.

His lousy parents all over again.

"So it worked," Henrietta murmured to herself, dragging Blink out of his reverie. "It really worked."

"What worked?" said Blink.

"Nothing. I'd like you to walk me home, Blink. I'm tired and I've changed my mind."

This was the Henrietta he knew and loved; forthright and direct, the girl who spoke her mind without dilly-dallying around the subject. "Changed your mind about what?" he asked.

"It was foolish to run away from home. More trouble than it's worth, really."

Blink could definitely agree with that. His ma and pop settled down much too young and ended up with a whole lifetime of problems. Funny how Blink didn't see it earlier, before he agreed with Henrietta's plan to run off. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "More trouble than it's worth."

"But I still want to see you, of course." Henrietta took Blink by the hand and flashed him a warm smile that banished all of his worries. "I have to give my papa _something_ to complain about."

"That sounds all right with me," said Blink, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. "But say, how'd we get on this street?"

Henrietta laughed. "You must have been sleepwalking."

* * *

><p>Race had the damnedest time finding Jack Kelly. He had forgotten all about Jack, actually, but after getting Blink and Henrietta's mess sorted out he suddenly remembered that he gave Jack some love potion earlier, and that the love potion really worked. Who knew what kind of trouble Jack had gotten himself into?<p>

So after giving Henrietta her antidote, Race checked all of Jack's usual selling spots and ran into Mush, who said he saw Jack heading to the Jacobs' apartment. Race then had to sweet-talk Mrs. Jacobs into telling him where Jack had gone, which wasn't easy because Mrs. Jacobs had just started cooking a brisket and Race's mouth was watering the whole time. Those Jewish women could cook one hell of a brisket. _Then _Race had to trot on down to Irving Hall, since that was where Jack had taken Sarah, and had to ask Medda Larkson herself where Jack had disappeared to.

"He took Sarah backstage," said Medda, smiling at Race with her very red lips. "They oughtta still be there, so it looks like you're in luck, honey." She patted Race's arm and sailed away in a flurry of bright yellow skirts.

Race smirked as he headed backstage. He liked to think that Medda was sweet on him since no dame could resist his natural Italian charm, even a dame as old as Medda. He may have had a good-for-nothing Irish father, but he thanked his lucky stars for his sweet, black-haired Italian mother, God rest her soul.

He found Jack looking sulky, standing with his arms crossed over his chest while he watched Sarah chat with a man wearing a donkey's head. Sarah's eyes sparkled with delight, a delight that reminded Race strongly of Blink, and Race couldn't help a snort of laughter. He had seen some strange things that day, but Sarah falling in love with a donkey's head took the cake.

"Oh, Nicky, you have such a wonderful speaking voice," Sarah said rapturously. "Such wonderful stage presence too. Donkeys are really the most distinguished creatures."

"I do it all for my adoring audience," said Nicky, the man in the donkey costume. "Especially you, my dear."

Jack balled his hands into fists and scowled.

"Psst!" Race crept up next to him and nudged him with his elbow. "Hey, Jacky. I got a little somethin' for ya."

"You don't owe me nothin', Race," said Jack. "That love potion worked."

"Aw, forget the five cents you owe me. That game is over. I've got me an antidote that'll fix Sarah faster than you can say farm animal."

Jack studied the little bottle that Race handed him, skepticism written all over his normally confident face. "You sure this'll fix her?"

"I wasn't lyin' about the love potion, was I? Of course it'll work."

"A donkey isn't the only creature I impersonate well, you know!" Nicky announced to an enraptured Sarah. "I've mastered the dog, the rooster, the lion, and the horse, if you'd like to see them. Free of charge for a nice damsel like you."

"I'll take the antidote," Jack muttered to Race. "How much you askin' for it?"

"This one's on the house," Race said with a wink.

Flower would be furious when she found out he gave away a free antidote, but it served her right after all the times she had driven him crazy. He wished good luck and slipped out of Irving Hall, then hitched a ride on the back of a carriage until he reached Malone's pub. Flower's grandmother answered the door and stared at Race for the longest time, blinking at him with her pale, vacant eyes until Race shook off the spell of her gaze and broke the silence.

"Uh, 'scuse me, ma'am. I'm here to see your granddaughter again."

"Ain't decent for a fella to call on an unwed lass so often," Flower's grandmother muttered. "Ain't decent at all."

"Hey, it ain't like I'm spendin' the night or nothin'. Gimme a break, will ya?"

The old grandmother shuffled away without another word and Race hurried past her so he wouldn't have to look into her spooky eyes again. There weren't a lot of things that Race was afraid of, but that woman's eyes gave him the creeps like nothing else did. He found Flower in her back room, seated on a battered old chair with her cat in her lap, and Race held back a groan. That cat was another creature that gave him the shivers. Perhaps it could sense that he was a dog lover.

"Ya miss me, doll?" said Race.

The cat leaped off of Flower's lap and ran into a corner, curling into a ball behind an overturned bucket. "Miss ya?" Flower said disdainfully. "I can never get rid of ya."

"Why, you've wounded me," said Race, clutching his heart.

"Oh, stop that, will ya? How much money have I got after those antidotes you handed out?"

"Well, Flower, I've been meanin' to have a little talk with you about that," said Race. "How 'bout we forget the money and I give you a kiss instead?"

Flower's grey eyes hardened. "How's a kiss better than money?"

"I can't tell ya that, sweetheart. You've gotta see for yourself."

"Sounds like a lot of trouble to me. Why do you wanna kiss me so bad?"

"I'm in a good mood, that's why. I guess helpin' people agrees with me or somethin'." Race drew closer to Flower's chair, which was enough to startle her cat from the room. "So what do you say, huh? You gonna pucker up?"

"All right, Race. I'll let you kiss me," said Flower.

Race's mouth dropped open. "You will?"

"Sure I will. If you give me a dollar."

* * *

><p>Hannah had landed in the most torturous heaven. She stood on the rooftop of her tenement building, high above the crowds and chaos of the city, and she tried not to feel guilty when David edged a bit closer, close enough to touch her if he moved his hand just an inch. He was still the David she had always known and loved, the David who thought before he acted, who strove to do what was right, and yet he wasn't the same David at all. His eyes were different when he looked at her; <em>softer<em> and full of a warmth she had never seen before, and when he said her name he made it sound like the greatest treasure in the world.

This was the David she had always wanted. The David who had eyes for her and only her, the David who adored her unconditionally, and yet Hannah still felt guilty. She had no business taking advantage of David's potion-addled state, just because she had admired him for years. She was no better than the men who preyed upon girls in taverns, plying them with liquor so they would lose their senses. She was no better than a thief.

"Hannah." David gently touched her elbow, saying her name in that new way that gave her thrills.

"Yes?" Hannah couldn't look at him, fearing that unnatural softness in his eyes.

"You ought to come over for supper. Mama's making her famous brisket."

Hannah stood speechless, longing to refuse.

"I know she'll be thrilled to see you." David took Hannah by the hand and didn't seem to notice how cold it was. "She's always talking about you, you know. She wants a nice Jewish daughter-in-law more than anything."

And Mrs. Jacobs would get her Jewish daughter-in-law, if Hannah kept the potion antidote from David. The very thought made her insides squirm with more guilt. How could she go through with such a deception?

But then David took his free hand and brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, gazing at her with those intelligent blue eyes she had loved since she was twelve years old, and she knew she could do this, at least for a little while. At least before Mrs. Jacobs started to make wedding plans. David started to caress her cheek, then abruptly stopped and let his hand fall, awkward and embarrassed. The same old David.

"Are we going too fast?" he asked.

"No," said Hannah. They were going too slow; much too slow after all the years she had waited for him. "Not too fast at all."

"Well in that case..." David trailed off, incapable of words for the first time since Hannah had known him, and leaned in so he could gently press his lips to Hannah's. He grew bolder and wrapped his hand around her waist, kissing her more deeply, and Hannah pushed the guilt away so she could kiss him back.

She knew it was just the love potion dictating David's actions, but she could fool herself into thinking that his feelings were real. She could convince herself that this was right, that she deserved a little happiness all to herself, even if it was a sham. Even if the potion wore off and David abandoned her the moment he returned to his senses. At least she would have this memory of David Jacobs kissing her on a rooftop, making her the center of his world.

Hannah knew she was selfish, but being selfish had never felt so good.


	9. Epilogue

**Author's Note: **And this is the end. Thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed!

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

"Bullshit, Race."

"What do you mean, bullshit? I'm tellin' the truth here!"

"Tellin' a good story is what you're doin'. You oughtta write for vaudeville."

Spot had an awful lot of nerve, calling Race a liar right to his face, when Race had one hell of a troublesome time yesterday. He and Spot sat in front of the lodging house, smoking cigarettes in the fading sunlight as afternoon turned into early evening. "Vaudeville," Race echoed derisively. "If you was in Manhattan yesterday, you wouldn't be goin' on about vaudeville. You'd be beggin' for a share in my new business."

"I don't get involved in scams," said Spot.

"It ain't a scam, dummy. Go ahead and ask Jack Kelly. His own girl drank one of the love potions and fell in love with some chump wearin' a donkey costume. She was head over heels for the bummer."

"Now I _know_ you're pullin' my leg."

"I know what I saw, Spot."

"Well you was dreamin'."

Race scowled and took a drag on his cigarette. He didn't even like cigarettes, but Spot insisted on smoking them and Race couldn't refuse. "I wasn't dreamin'," he said, blowing smoke in Spot's direction. "And I don't know why I'm tellin' you about this stuff anyway."

"Cause you've got a big mouth," Spot said smugly. "You'll tell anybody anything."

"Oh yeah? Well I ain't gonna tell you who I kissed yesterday."

"I bet it was ol' Kloppman's sister. The one who hobbles around on a cane and has four teeth."

"No, it wasn't her, you ass. And I think she's got _five_ teeth."

Spot smirked at Race. "You would know."

Race kept his temper and tossed his cigarette aside, letting it flicker out on the dirty ground. "What are you doin' in Manhattan anyway?" he asked. "I know you ain't here to see Jack, or else you woulda talked to him already."

Spot's smirk didn't fade as he looked at Race, his glowing cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. "You know you owe me five bucks, don'tcha?"

"Five _bucks_?" Race yelped. "Whaddya mean, five bucks? That's a small fortune you're talking about!"

"I always know what a fella owes me, Race. It's five whole bucks, not a penny under."

Spot might as well have asked for five _hundred_ dollars, Race was so staggered by the amount. "That ain't possible!" he cried. "How the hell did I end up with a debt like that?"

"You've been owin' me money for three months now. It all added up."

"Well how come you didn't come houndin' me about it earlier?"

"I try to cut a fella some slack, so I give him three months to pay up. You never coughed up the dough, Race, so here I am."

Race doubted that Spot's leniency had anything to do with cutting a fellow some slack. He allowed three months to slide by on purpose, knowing that Race's debt would pile up until the sum became outrageous. "I don't got five bucks," said Race. "Nobody 'round here has got five bucks."

"Oh yeah?" said Spot. "Weren't you just braggin' about your fine new business a few minutes ago?"

"Yeah, but you don't believe in the business. You think love potions ain't real."

"They _ain't_ real, but that don't mean you can't make a profit off 'em. C'mon, Race, you've gotta have some dough if you've sold as many as you say you have."

Race _did_ sell quite a few love potions in the last couple of days, taking care to sell an antidote with each potion, but he had the misfortune of working with the most tight-fisted business partner he could ask for. "You want some of the dough, you gotta talk to Flower Malone," he told Spot. "_She's _handlin' all the profits."

"Flower Malone?" Spot never laughed outright, but he came close to doing it after hearing Race's words. "You mean _Letitia_ Flower Malone? The scrawny redhead?"

"Somethin' funny, Spot?"

"I grew up with Flower. She lived in Brooklyn 'til her parents croaked a few years ago. That girl would do anything to make a buck."

"Well me and Flower are makin' good money here." Race remembered the little bottle he had stuffed into his pocket, a leftover remnant of his afternoon sales, and he drew it out with a cocky grin that could rival Jack Kelly. "In fact, I've got one of them love potions on me right now."

"Lemme see." Spot snatched the bottle and peered at its contents, his sharp eyes full of suspicion. "Probably just liquor."

"Yeah, that's what _I_ thought, but it's the real deal. Try it if ya don't believe me."

"Whaddya mean, try it? Of course I ain't gonna try it."

"Why not?" said Race. "Afraid it'll work?"

Spot looked like he was ready to shove the bottle back into Race's hand, but he hesitated for just a moment before resuming his usual confidence. "No," he said firmly. "I ain't afraid it'll work."

"And I don't believe ya," said Race. "You know what? I'll make you a deal. I'll let you use that potion free of charge, and if it works I get an extra coupla weeks to pay the five bucks. Is it a deal or what?"

"Fine, it's a deal," said Spot. "But I know it ain't gonna work."

"How much you wanna bet?"


End file.
